


tumbling into love

by Slice_of_Apple



Category: Shingeki no Kyojin | Attack on Titan
Genre: Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Injury, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Romance, Sweet, always fluff, characters aged up a bit it's vague, slushy drivel sort of i'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-24
Updated: 2020-10-24
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:22:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27177815
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Slice_of_Apple/pseuds/Slice_of_Apple
Summary: Jean falls off a titan, sustaining serious injuries. Eren freaks out.Eren goes on the next mission without Jean. Jean freaks out.
Relationships: Jean Kirstein/Eren Yeager
Comments: 7
Kudos: 248





	tumbling into love

Eren whirls around in time to see Jean land on the titan that is reaching out to grab Eren from behind. Jean slashes its neck, dispatching it easily and efficiently. Eren is already turning back to scout for new threats, so it is only out of the corner of his eye that he sees something go awry. Instead of leaping elegantly into the air, Jean slips. Eren turns back, his body already in motion as Jean starts to slide, scrabbling at the thick, titan flesh. It’s no use: he falls. By the time Eren has taken his first running steps, Jean has bounced off the plunging titan’s shoulder, elbow, and knee, and landed in a limp heap on the ground.

As he runs, Eren’s mind is a blank, pushing back against the awful possibility that Jean has been seriously injured, perhaps even... He refuses to say it, even in his mind. His hands are shaking so much, he’s not sure if it’s Jean’s pulse or his own movements that he feels. He holds his palm in front of Jean’s mouth. Is there a breath of air? He’s not sure. He tries again for the pulse, pressing his fingers into Jean’s neck. He has to know.

Yes! Weak, thready, but a pulse nonetheless.

He gets further confirmation as Jean mumbles, “Shit. What the hell happened?”

Eren quells the rocketing feeling of hope. It’s far too soon to celebrate. Jean could still be seriously injured, and they are in an extremely vulnerable position.

“You fell,” Eren says, curtly. “What hurts?”

Jean cracks an eye open. “Seeing your ugly face.”

Eren feels faint at hearing this stupid wisecrack. Like he might honestly pass out from the relief. But there’s no time for that. He has to breathe. Concentrate. 

“Yeah, yeah,” he says, running a hand over each of Jean’s limbs. “Your witty banter is as shitty as ever.”

There’s something obviously wrong with Jean’s right leg, the one that must have taken the brunt of the fall. It’s bulging at a funny angle inside his boot. It’ll have to wait, though. They need to get out of here straightaway.

“Can you move?”

Jean uncurls his body, then stops, wincing. There is a large, dark patch on his shirt.

“Shit,” Eren mutters under his breath. He lifts the shirt up. It’s dripping with blood, obscuring the wound underneath. The blood doesn’t seem to be pouring out, though, it’s more of a steady trickle.

Jean takes a shaky breath, not looking. “Is it - ?” He doesn’t continue.

“Nothing too bad,” Eren lies. “Guess we’re still gonna be stuck with you, after all.”

Jean exhales with relief, but his face is grey.

Eren rips off his cloak and jacket. He rolls the jacket into a ball, stuffs it up against the bloody shirt, and wraps the cloak around it. Hopefully, this will give the area enough compression to help stem the flow of blood, at least temporarily. Jean clearly needs medical attention, and soon.

Eren whistles piercingly, and his horse – thank the gods – trots eagerly over.

“Can you get up?” Eren tries to keep his voice even, to not show the fear that’s steadily increasing inside him. 

“Maybe,” says Jean, gritting his teeth.

“What kind of lame answer is that?” asks Eren, frowning. Jean _always_ rises to a challenge.

Jean smiles – or is it a grimace? But all he says is, “I’ll… try.” He gasps as he shifts to a crawling position. He’s panting heavily.

“Not sure… I …. can… after all,” he whispers, rolling back into himself.

Eren yanks on Jean’s arm, pulling him upwards, but Jean hisses in pain and he immediately lets go.

Eren crouches down. He thinks briefly about transforming, but that will immediately attract all the surrounding titans, and he won’t be able to protect Jean if he is attacked on all sides. The best strategy is to find the wagons. But Eren can’t get Jean all the way onto the horse by himself. Jean will have to participate. He tilts Jean’s head up and looks directly into his eyes.

“You have to get up, Jean.”

“I… don’t think- ”

“You better not be saying that you don't think you can do it,” Eren warns. He puts his hands under Jean’s armpits and starts to heave, but he is afraid to pull too hard. What if he tears Jean’s stomach wide open?

“That really fucking hurts,” pants Jean, dropping his head.

“It’s gonna hurt a lot more if a titan comes along and bites into you.”

“But then I’ll be dead, and it won’t hurt at all,” mumbles Jean, and it doesn’t sound sarcastic. Eren recoils as though he’s been slapped. _What the fuck?_

“Get your lazy butt up already!” he says sharply.

Jean’s head shoots up. He looks wounded. “Don’t _yell_ at me!” he cries. “I can’t do it, okay?”

“I’ll stop yelling if you stop being so pathetic!” Eren yells. “Get up!”

Jean doesn’t say anything. He doesn’t make any effort to rise, either.

“I mean it. Get your ass up!” He nudges Jean with his foot.

“OK,” says Jean weakly, giving in. “I’ll try again.”

“You better do more than try, you stupid moron.” By this point, Eren is almost in a full-blown panic. They’ve definitely used up all their luck dithering like this. They need to get out of there _now._

“ _You’re_ the stupid moron,” pants Jean. “Help me, then, goddammit!”

“Aww, Jean, is that what this is all about? If you wanted a hug that much, all you had to do was _ask_ for it.” Eren smiles smugly. 

“I don’t – it’s not – shut up!” says Jean. But the exchange seems to give him a much-needed boost. He gingerly places his hands on Eren’s shoulders, gritting his teeth. They rise together clumsily, Jean clinging to Eren and biting down against the pain.

Soon they are standing in an awkward parody of a dance, Jean falling into Eren, Eren bracing himself as best he can against Jean’s unsteady weight.

His arm looped tightly around Jean’s waist, Eren peers about, hoping for a glimpse of the wagons. But he can’t see anything past the titan steam, aside from his horse. His horse really is amazing, waiting patiently for all the fuss to be over. Unfortunately, said horse is also much too tall. How on earth are they going to get Jean into the saddle?

Jean seems to be thinking the same thing. He stares, wide-eyed, at the insurmountable barrier of her flanks and sags even further into Eren.

“Yeah, yeah, I know,” says Eren, steeling himself. “I’m going to have to do all the work. As usual. All _you_ have to do, you lazy bum, is to grab hold once you’re high enough, and then you can swing your leg over. OK?” In contrast to the words, his tone is gentle, encouraging. He lightly pats Jean’s back as he speaks.

Jean doesn’t respond. His head has fallen over Eren’s shoulder. 

“Understand, Jean?” Eren asks again, in that same coaxing voice.

Eren feels Jean’s head nod. He quickly transfers Jean’s upper body so that it is now leaning against the horse. Without giving Jean any warning, he crouches down and heaves mightily.

“Agh!” Jean cries out. Eren ignores him. He can’t worry about Jean’s pain right now. They have to _move._ Unfortunately, Jean is even heavier than he anticipated.

“What the hell… have you… been eating?” grunts Eren. “Or maybe it’s the… rocks… in your head?”

“In _my_ head! You – you’re the one with…” Jean can’t finish the sentence. Eren feels his thighs shuddering with the strain.

Eren pushes harder. Jean’s up. Almost…

“Now, Jean!” commands Eren.

Jean barely manages to flop his good leg over the horse. The other one – the bad one – slams heavily against the saddle. 

“Ah,” groans Jean, clutching the horse’s mane, his face frozen in agony.

“Fuck, Eren, are you trying to k-k-kill me?” he stutters out as Eren puts a foot in the stirrup and jumps up lightly behind him.

“I wouldn’t mind inheriting your bed,” Eren says thoughtfully as he grabs the reins. “Humanity’s greatest hope surely deserves a bed near a window, right? Unlike humanity’s weaseliest horseface.”

“You bastard,” moans Jean.

Eren gently turns the horse.

“Shit! Agh! Don’t touch my leg. Fuck!”

Eren hopes Jean will pass out soon from the pain. Hearing him suffer is truly unbearable.

When Eren finally finishes tucking his horse in and unloading all the equipment, he stumbles off to the infirmary. They had eventually found the rest of the Scout regiment, and Jean had been efficiently transferred to the wagons. There were few other injuries, and none as severe as Jean’s, so he got top priority once they made it back home to the infirmary.

Jean’s shirt is gone, and he has a large bandage encircling his waist, which disappears under the blankets. There is a bulky mass where his right leg should be. It must be heavily immobilized. His upper body looks shrunken in comparison, and unnervingly pale, almost like a poorly made, wax replica of the real Jean. Eren doesn’t like it in the least. 

The image of Jean’s body bouncing down the titan’s carcass and onto the ground swims up in his mind. He shudders.

Jean’s eyes flicker open and he bares his teeth in a grin. The smile bears a frightening resemblance to a leering death’s head.

“What is _that_ look for? Were you hoping to find me already dead? You really want my bed that badly, huh?”

_That’s a horrible thing to say_ , thinks Eren. But then he remembers that he started this unfortunate line of banter, so he tries to come up with a witty riposte.

“Yep,” Eren says, drawing in a shaky breath. “I’m here to get that in writing, that you’re leaving me your bed when you…” His voice trails off; he can’t actually say the words.

Jean stares at him, his eyes heavy. Eren tries to think of something to fill the silence, anything really, but he can’t. His mind keeps returning to the tumbling fall and Jean’s limp body lying on the ground, looking for all the world like a corpse.

“You could do at least do something useful and pass me the water,” Jean croaks grumpily, at last.

The familiarity of Jean’s surliness is comforting, and it’s enough to yank Eren back into the present.

“Watering time at the trough, eh?” he says, as he grabs the water from the table next to the bed.

Jean scrabbles at the sheets but can’t seem to make himself sit up. He can’t even lift his head very far off the pillow.

Eren sits down next to him and puts a hand to the back of Jean’s head, lifting it for him. Jean’s hands are trembling when they grab the glass, and Eren keeps a grip on the base to stabilize it while Jean drinks. 

Even so, water trickles down his chin.

“Christ,” Jean says, as his head flops back onto the pillow, his eyes closed. He doesn’t even try to wipe his face. “I feel like death.”

Eren uses a corner of the blanket to gently pat Jean’s chin and neck dry.

“How nice that the infirmary staff get to experience your sparkling personality,” he says, but his heart isn’t in it. He’s pretty fucking worried. Jean does _not_ look good.

The next evening, Jean is worse. He’s tossing and turning feverishly; when he does open his eyes, they are unnaturally bright.

He doesn’t acknowledge Eren, even after Eren has repeated his name several times.

. Eren walks over to talk to the nurse.

“He’s got a fever. Infection must have set in before the wound was cleaned," she explains.

“What does that mean?” Eren asks sharply.

The woman doesn’t answer, and she doesn’t look at Eren.

“What does that mean?” Eren repeats, his voice raised. He has to restrain himself from grabbing her arm.

“We’re doing everything we can, but at this point it’s not clear in which direction it’s going to go. Either he'll pull through or he won’t.”

“Oh, he’ll pull through,” says Eren angrily. “Of course he’ll pull through.” _Despite your shitty attitude_ , he adds unreasonably, but only under his breath. Even through his anger he knows that it wouldn’t do to antagonize anyone who is directly responsible for taking care of Jean.

Eren walks back to Jean’s cot. Jean is whimpering, rolling his upper body from one side of the cot to the other. 

Frustrated and frightened, Eren sits on the edge of the cot and grabs Jean’s hand. Jean immediately stills. His eyebrows pucker.

“Er-en?” he whispers brokenly. Eren wonders idly how Jean knows it’s him even though his eyes are closed.

“Yeah, Jean,” says Eren. With his free hand, he brushes Jean’s sweaty hair back from his forehead, which is burning to the touch. “It’s me.”

Jean clutches Eren’s hand with trembling fingers. He doesn’t say anything else, but the contact seems to soothe him. He stops whimpering and rolling about.

The night nurse walks over.

Her voice is kind when she says, “This is the calmest he’s been all day. He needs the rest. Would you be able to stay the night? We can pull up a cot for you right next to him.”

“Of course,” says Eren. Even amidst the fear, it’s a nice thought, that he will be here for Jean in a way that no one else will.

Still clutching Eren’s hand, Jean seems to fall into a genuine slumber. Just before he drifts off to sleep himself, Eren leans over. He hesitates for a moment, then very lightly kisses Jean’s sweaty, stringy hair. Up close, Jean smells stale, almost rotten. _Fuck._

Eren has acknowledged it to himself, this thing he has for Jean, but he’s done his best to bury it as deep as it will go. Jean obviously doesn’t feel the same way, and Eren doesn’t want it to get in the way of what they do have, what’s turned over the years into a trusted friendship. It’s usually not too hard to keep it down, to fill his mind with other things. It has risen up in full force now, though, this overwhelming feeling of love and affection, and alongside it, keeping pace, a horrible dread that Jean might not…. make it.

Eren comes over every day once he’s off-duty. Every day it’s the same – Jean restless, feverish, only semi-conscious. Every day, he calms down once he’s holding Eren’s hand. Every night, Eren sleeps next to him.

At least he doesn’t seem to be getting worse.

When Eren arrives on the seventh evening, things are different. Jean has clearly turned a corner. He is half-sitting up (sitting up! Eren’s heart does a little dance of delight), propped up with pillows. He is wearing clean pajamas, he’s been washed and shaved, and his bedding looks fresh.

But perhaps even more shocking is that someone else is sitting on the edge of Jean’s bed. Someone Eren doesn’t know. A young woman – a girl, really. Eren can see her face in profile, and she is very pretty, with shining golden hair. She lets out a rich peal of laughter as Eren stands, staring at her, his mouth open.

The nurse follows Eren’s gaze and smiles.

“Ah,” she says. “That’s Millie. She comes in to cheer up the patients. She and Jean have really hit it off, haven’t they? She’s stayed way longer than she usually does.”

It looks like they have, indeed, hit it off. Jean has a smile on his face that Eren has never seen before: a sweet, open smile. Millie is smiling back. Of course she is. Jean at his most charming is irresistible. And, even though he is still practically at death’s door, he is obviously pouring on the charm right now.

Jean hasn’t noticed Eren. Well, Eren came to find out how Jean is doing. Now he knows. Jean is doing well. There’s no reason for Eren stay. He spins quietly on his heel and leaves. He has to stop himself from slamming the door on his way out.

Eren stops by two more times that week. Both times, Millie is already at Jean’s bedside. The second time, he happens to see Millie reach over and take Jean’s hand in both of hers. A nasty pain cuts through Eren at the sight. It was stupid to think that he was the only one who could help Jean in this way. That he could offer Jean something special. Eren leaves and doesn’t plan on returning.

There is a mission tomorrow. A short one. Just a day trip. Eren debates whether to visit Jean. He hasn’t been on a mission outside the walls without Jean in years. He finds that he doesn’t want to go without at least saying goodbye. They’re still friends, after all.

Luckily, Jean is alone. He is sitting up in bed, staring off into space. He looks worlds better than when he first arrived. Still obviously weak, but less shrunken.

“Horseface,” Eren calls out, walking over.

“Eren!” Jean’s face lights up at the sight of him. “They said I’ll probably be able to leave in a few days!” Jean’s eyes have their old brightness, and he smiles with unadulterated pleasure. That’s the smile he gives Millie, Eren thinks. His stomach clenches at the thought. 

What is he doing here, anyway? To support his comrade-in-arms, of course. But that’s not all. He’s here because he cares about Jean. In that other way. And he wants, more than anything, for Jean to care about _him_ that way, too.

With these thoughts roiling in his belly, all he can spit out at Jean is, “We’re going out tomorrow.”

“What?” Jean startles, looking like he’s been kicked. He knows exactly what Eren means by _going out._ “Tomorrow?”

Eren nods.

Jean starts shooting questions at Eren, rapid-fire. “Where to? Who’s going? What’s the formation?” He doesn’t stop until Eren give him all the details. He looks slightly better when he learns that Mikasa and Levi will be flanking Eren.

Once he’s done answering all the questions, Eren readies himself to leave.

Jean’s eyes are in his lap. He mutters, “You better not die because I’m not there to save your sorry ass, Jaeger.”

Eren doesn’t want to fight, and he doesn’t have the heart for banter, so he refrains from pointing out in no uncertain terms that he doesn’t need Jean to save him.

“I won’t,” he says instead. They both know that these are empty words – some things are beyond their control – but Jean only nods. “Good.”

His hand snaps out and grabs Eren’s wrist. He holds it in a surprisingly tight grip. “You come back here tomorrow evening and tell me yourself that you made it, okay?”

“Okay,” Eren agrees.

“Promise?” Jean looks up at him, his eyes challenging.

Eren nods.

“Say it,” Jean insists.

“I promise,” says Eren.

Only then does Jean let go and fall back against the pillow, panting slightly, his eyes closed.

“Don’t forget,” he murmurs, as Eren turns to leave. “You promised.”

  


The mission is a success. No casualties, and the objective was accomplished. It was a strenuous titan day for Eren, though, and he is limp with fatigue. He falls asleep in the wagon. He barely regains consciousness when they arrive back home. As he stumbles into bed, he thinks to himself that there’s something he’s supposed to be doing, somewhere he’s supposed to go. But he’s too tired. He can’t remember. He passes out while he is still trying to figure out what it was.

He wakes up with a jolt in darkness. What? Where is he? Right. They got back from the mission. He’s in his bed. All of a sudden he remembers: Jean. Damn it.

Feeling an utter fool, he climbs out of bed. He shivers in the cold night air. What the hell is he doing? Jean doesn’t need him. He’s got that girl to take care of him. But Eren promised. Jean made sure of that. Grumbling to himself, he pulls on his clothes and makes his way over to the infirmary.

It’s way past visiting hours, but the same night nurse is on duty, and she waves him in. 

At first, he thinks Jean is asleep. He almost turns around, doesn’t want to disturb him. It was a stupid idea, showing up at this hour. He’ll come back tomorrow. It will be fine.

But something isn’t quite right. When he steps closer, he sees that Jean is rigid, his eyes wide open, staring up at the ceiling. 

“Jean?” he asks. “Are you okay?”

Jean looks up at him, startled. His eyes are enormous. Even in the dim light, Eren can see that he is as white as a sheet.

“E – e – ren?” Jean clumsily sits up, wincing at the movement. He gasps. “You– you stupid shit! You didn’t c-c-come. No one came. To t-t-tell me. F-f-uck!” !” He is gulping in great lungfuls of air. “You p-p-promised you would come!” He drops his face into his hands, his shoulders shaking. 

Are those _tears_? Jean _never_ cries. _Never._

But apparently he does. Tears are pouring out of his eyes, leaking around his fingers, dripping onto his lap. 

Eren is paralyzed by the sight. He doesn’t think he can move. Until he feels a hand on his back. The night nurse. She nudges him forward, towards Jean, then heads back to her chair.

“I thought- I thought you were d-d-dead!” Jean is practically wailing.

Is Jean upset because he was _worried_? Does Jean care that much - about _Eren_?!

“What about that girl? Millie?” is all Eren can think to say.

‘What?” says Jean, confused enough to look up. His face is wet, his eyes puffy. He clearly doesn’t know what Eren is talking about. The sound of his harsh breathing galvanizes Eren into action. He takes the last few steps to Jean’s bed and plops down, his legs no longer supporting his weight. He is wholly overcome with the idea that Jean could be reduced to such a quivering, sobbing mess over _Eren_.

It’s weird, to feel elated when Jean is upset. But Eren can’t help the wild happiness thrumming through him. Jean _does_ care about him! _A lot_. Perhaps as much as he cares about Jean?

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m right here,” he finally says. Without thinking about it, because he wants to, because he’s wanted to for so long, he wraps his arms around Jean, gathers him in. Jean buries his face in Eren’s chest, clutches at Eren’s shirt.

“I’m sorry I didn’t come earlier,” Eren whispers into Jean’s ear. “I fell asleep on the wagon ride home, and I just woke up.” It’s not an excuse, but it’s the best he has to offer.

“You f-f-fucking idiot,” Jean is still talking through his tears, pulling Eren’s shirt uncomfortably tight in his clenched fists. “D-d-don’t die on me.”

“I won’t,” Eren says, even though they both know that, like before, it’s a meaningless promise.

“You better not,” Jean says, his voice muffled by Eren’s chest.

“You better not die on me either, you jerk. You scared the shit out of me. I still haven’t recovered.” He kisses the side of Jean’s head, so softly he’s not sure that Jean even feels it. Then he kisses it again, because he wants to. Once he's started, it's very hard to stop. 

Pulling back, he takes Jean’s tear-stained face in his hands. He kisses Jean’s forehead, his cheeks, his chin. By the time he reaches Jean’s open mouth, Jean is ready. Jean kisses back greedily, matching Eren’s hunger. It is only when Jean winces that Eren remembers where they are and what condition Jean is in. He draws back with a shuddering breath.

“I’ve been wanting to do that for a while,” he admits, his hands caressing Jean’s face, his shoulders, his arms.

“Me too,” murmurs Jean. Eren can hardly believe it. _Really?_

After making this stunning proclamation, Jean flops backwards onto the bed, pulling Eren down next to him. Jean’s eyes are closed, and his body is limp. The strain of all that worry on his already weakened system has plainly exhausted him, and he seems to drift off immediately.

Eren smiles. “Putting you to sleep, am I?” he murmurs, reaching out to brush a finger along Jean’s cheek.

Jean grins and says, “That’s what you are, Jaeger, one gigantic sleep-inducing bore.” He turns his head and kisses Eren, a swift, sharp kiss to the mouth, adding, “But now you’re _my_ bore.”

“Huh,” says Eren wonderingly, still trying to take it in. That it's all really happening, and not some strange dream. “I guess I am.”

A little while later, the night nurse comes by and throws a blanket over the two of them.

Eren stares out of the window of their barracks. It’s a clear night, and he can see stars winking in the night sky. Jean is making a good recovery: he’s able to walk and ride, and he’s even started practicing on the ODM balance harness. He’s getting stronger every day.

“I told you I deserved this bed,” Eren says into Jean’s ear. He speaks very softly. The others have taken their new sleeping arrangement largely in stride, but he doesn’t want to push it. All the same, he can’t help kissing Jean’s ear. One kiss is never enough, though; he leaves a trail of kisses as he makes his way slowly over to Jean’s mouth.

Jean is laughing silently; Eren can feel the vibrations against his face and chest.

“Too bad such an annoying horseface came with it,” Eren breathes, kissing Jean’s mouth to stop the laughter.

It’s hard to imagine how he ever fell asleep before, without Jean’s comfortable, yielding weight against him.

Jean stops laughing and sleepily kisses Eren back. Jean’s taste is familiar to him, now, just as this particular view of the stars at night has become familiar to him.

Eren can tell that Jean is at the floppy stage where he’ll start snoring any second. Eren doesn’t mind, though. They’re light, gentle snores. Soothing to Eren’s ear. They help drive away the recurring nightmare of Jean tumbling down, over and over again, against the backdrop of an endless blue sky.


End file.
